Final Thoughts
by Joe's girl
Summary: 24 characters reflect on Audrey's death. Chapter 1: James Heller (edited), Chapter 2: Mark Boudreau
1. James Heller

Ok, let's just say that the 24: Live Another Day finale just about killed me! After that I wanted was some serious Jack/Audrey fluff. In the end, that's not exactly what I came up with. The scene with James Heller walking with his daughter's casket broke my heart (William Devane's performance was superb!) as did his final words with Alastair (Congratulations 24 writers. You finally got an emotional moment right!). I started to think about the 12 hours since he got the news of Audrey's death and what would happen in the future. This is what I came up with. Although not uplifting or happy, I'm hoping that it plucks a heartstring or two. Let me know what you think.

Just a quick note, for those of you either didn't watch Season 4 or have long forgotten it, James Heller had a son named Richard who factored prominently into that season's story line. Richard's name will come up in this chapter and I didn't want to have to take the time in the text of the story to explain.

As always, I don't own any of the characters. Those are the property of Fox Television who I thank for allowing me to borrow them.

**Final Thoughts**

James Heller:

I walk forward slowly. Despite the fact that my mind is failing, my body remains strong. I still stand tall, unaffected by the chill of the London morning. I rest my hand lightly on the flag draping her casket. _Her casket._ I stare straight ahead trying to control my emotions, trying to stem the tide of tears that are aching to fall from my eyes. How did it all go so wrong? Audrey is dead. Mark is in custody. No one can find Jack.

I have never felt more alone in my life. I remember back to when my wife died. As alone as I was at that moment, I knew I had to go on. I needed to raise my children, Audrey and her brother, Richard. I only got that per 50 percent right. If Audrey was the joy of my life, and believe me when I tell you that she was, Richard was her total antithesis. He fought me at every turn. We agreed on nothing. He lived out virtually every vice I despised. I can accept that he was gay. That was never the biggest issue. It was his partying, drug use and promiscuity. Not to mention that he embraced every left-wing liberal cause that he could, not because he believed in them, I could have lived with that, but because it hurt me. When I got the call that he died of a drug overdose I wasn't all that surprised. I would be lying to myself if I didn't admit that I was also a bit relieved. It was going to happen eventually. I knew that as sure as I knew the sun would set in the west. When he finally died I no longer had to worry about when it would happen. That sounds crass but if you're standing in my shoes, it's more realistic than it is crass. I'm nothing if not a realist. I grieved for my son, I truly did, but it was bearable because I had Audrey by my side. Audrey was there for me. She was my sunshine. I feel as if the sun has set forever.

When I think about it I realize that this is the second time in my life that I've been told that Audrey was dead. The first was when she went to China to negotiate Jack's release. That time was different. The pain was every bit as real, but I was at a different stage in my life and it just seemed more bearable. I was younger, healthier and consumed by my position as Secretary of Defense. Instead of mourning my daughter, I plunged into my work. I spent every waking moment working. I didn't deal with the grief, but rather worked myself to exhaustion. When I found out that Audrey was alive, I realized that I never really let myself believe that she was dead. It was easy to fool myself. I didn't see a body. They sent me a box filled with ashes, but that's different. I couldn't identify with ashes. Last night as I sat at the CIA station in a haze trying to process all that had happened, I told Ron Clark, my acting Chief of Staff, that I needed to see Audrey.

"That's not possible, Sir," he said. "The Secret Service won't allow you to go to the morgue. They can't secure it on such short notice."

"You mean like they secured the location where my daughter was meeting Jiao Sim? I don't give a damn what they think. I'm not asking them, Ron, I'm telling them," I retorted in a strong, Presidential voice. "At this moment, I'm still the President and they will carry out my orders. I'm not asking them to secure the building. I don't care if that building is secure. I'd be happy to have some crazy person jump out from behind a desk and shoot me," I shouted.

Ron nodded almost imperceptibly and went out of the room to tell my Secret Service detail. I watched them through the glass panel. They argued the point for a few seconds but in the end they did as I asked. They took me to the morgue. I asked the Secret Service to leave us alone. I was surprised when they cleared the room without an argument. I'm happy that I got to see her. It sounds cliché but she looked peaceful. She was still dressed in the white blouse and black slacks that she wore yesterday. Other than the crimson stain on her blouse, she could have been sleeping. It was too soon after death for _rigor mortis_ to set in, so her hand was still soft when I held it. It was cold and unresponsive, but it was soft. I leaned over the gurney and wrapped my arms around her. It was at that moment that I knew she was gone. I cried like I've never cried before, harder than I had cried for my wife or my son or even for Audrey when I thought she died in China. My tears soaked the shoulder of her blouse and ran down her neck. All I wanted was to change places with her. I wanted to be the corpse on the gurney in a cold morgue.

I eventually got hold of myself and had my detail take me back to the residence. On the way I asked Ron if anyone had heard from Jack.

"I haven't, Sir, but I'll look into. I'll check with the CIA acting station chief," he told me as he reached for his phone.

"Do that. When you talk to him, offer him a seat on Air Force One. I'd like him to return to The States with me. Do you know if anyone has told him about Audrey?"

"I don't know that either, Sir, but I'll find out." He paused with his phone in his hand for a moment. "Sir, I know this is bad timing, but while we were waiting for you I got a call from Agent Ritter at the CIA. There's something that you need to know."

"Say it, Ron. I'm in no mood for you to mince words."

"Cheng Zhi is dead."

"Dead? He was alive and in custody in the video. What happened?"

"We're still trying to piece that together, Sir. When the CIA team got to the ship where Jack captured Cheng, Jack wasn't there and Cheng's body was on the bridge. He'd been beheaded with a samurai sword."

"He deserved worse. Jack should have sliced open his belly and pulled out his intestines slowly."

Ron grimaced. "Jack Bauer?"

"Yeah and don't for a minute think he couldn't do it."

"How do you know it was Bauer?"

"I know Jack. This answers my question. Jack knows about Audrey. He beheaded Cheng to avenge her. He wasn't taking the chance with the courts or even of Cheng escaping custody again. He was going to make sure that Cheng was dead and there was no surgeon on Earth who could save his life. You can look for Jack, but you aren't going to find him. He'll disappear into the shadows again. He should go home a national hero, but he won't. He'll go to ground and deal with his grief in his own way. Speaking of which, make sure Boudreau is secure. I'm sure he's on Jack's list. Besides trying to turn Jack over to the Russians, Mark is responsible for Audrey's death. Jack will want blood. He was able to get Chloe O'Brian out of CIA custody. He can get to Mark if he wants to."

I reached the residence and the staff all stood silently as if at attention. Most of the women were crying. The men had solemn faces. Many couldn't meet my eye. They all loved Audrey. She was the warmth in the White House. I was brash and edgy. Mark was a smooth-talking salesman. Audrey was warm and kind. She was smart and capable but she was soft and approachable. Together we were a team…and a damn fine one. Polls showed that my popularity at this point in my presidency was higher than for any other president in the last 20 years. Not that I put any stock in polls, but I have to admit that it made me proud.

I went to the private quarters without saying word to anyone. The rooms were eerily quiet. I was used to hearing Audrey and Mark milling around in the room across the hall. I would hear one of them go to the kitchen for a late night snack or a cup of coffee if they were working late. The silence was deafening and intolerable. For the first time in my life I felt old. I've known that I have Alzheimer's disease for several months, but I've never felt old. Now I feel old. Funny, my mind was as clear as ever at that moment. For once I wish that my mind had that soupy feel that sometimes comes over me when I'm trying to think of a name or a place or an event. I wish this was all foggy, but it's not. It's clear as a bell.

A soft knock at the door brought me out of my reverie. "In," I called.

Ron opened the door about a foot. "Sorry to disturb you, Sir, but Agent Morgan from the CIA is here. She was hoping to speak with you."

"What does she want?" I asked.

"She says it's personal, Sir," he answered.

"Bring her to my study," I told him.

That's an unusual request but Ron didn't question it. I usually meet people in my office. I don't let them invade my personal space, but right now my personal space felt so empty that it seemed like inviting someone into it might help. I walked into the study and poured myself a glass of brandy. I suddenly remembered Audrey admonishing me for drinking earlier in the day. I promised her that it was just one drink. I meant it when I said it, but now I was breaking that promise. I glanced skyward in silent apology and raised my glass to her. I decided when I got back to my room that I was going to flush that medication down the drain. If its purpose was to help me maintain my memory, then I didn't want it any more, especially if it meant that I couldn't have a drink to dull the ache in my heart.

"Agent Morgan," the Secret Service agent announced as he opened the door and stepped into the room.

"Leave us," I instructed him. I waited for him to close the door. "Agent Morgan," I said as I nodded in her direction. "Would you join me," I gestured toward the bottle of brandy. She stood before me. Her blond hair and tall, trim figure reminded me of Audrey. I bet she would be beautiful in a dress and heels, but she wore black fatigues. You'll have to excuse the musings of an old man, but I still prefer a woman to be dressed like a woman. Don't get me wrong, I don't think they should be locked in the kitchen. My own daughter was an integral part of my administration but she always looked like a woman. At the moment Agent Moran looked as if she was exhausted. Her face and eyes were red from crying.

"No… thank you, Sir." Her voice cracked and tears filled her eyes. "I just came here to offer my apologies, Sir. It's my fault that your daughter died and I take full responsibility. I'll tender my resignation in the morning. I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am." She was sobbing now.

"Sit down, Agent Morgan," I said to her. "I think you need a drink. I'm your President. You're not allowed to disagree."

She sat stiffly in the nearest chair, perched on the very edge. I poured a snifter of brandy and handed it to her. "Drink it. That's an order." I thought I saw the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. "That's Audrey's favorite brandy. Sometimes we'd sit and have a glass together in the evening. Recently she wouldn't let me drink because of the medications I was taking. So she'd have a brandy and I'd have club soda with lime. Not a very good substitute, don't you agree?"

"It's very good brandy, Sir. Audrey had good taste." She tried unsuccessfully to stifle a sob.

"Agent Morgan, may I call you Kate." She nodded. "Kate, there are two people I hold responsible for my daughter's death: Cheng Zhi and Mark Boudreau. Not you. Not Jack. Not the Secret Service. Cheng was an animal who kidnapped and tortured my daughter for six months all the while telling the world that she was dead. I'm just glad that the world is rid of him. I thought that happened a few years ago, but obviously I was wrong. This time it was in Jack Bauer's hands. Now I don't have any doubts. Cheng wanted to get revenge on Jack. Mark never meant to hurt Audrey. On the contrary, he loved her. He was trying to keep Jack away from her. His greatest fault was jealousy. He was blinded by his jealously. Unfortunately, he knew that his marriage wasn't strong and that Audrey never stopped loving Jack. My mistake was convincing her that Mark was the right man for her. I honestly never wanted anything but to see her happy. I convinced her that Jack wasn't coming back and that Mark was a good man who loved her. I knew she didn't love Mark, but I thought she'd learn to love him. The first couple of years were pretty good, but it went downhill from there. " I paused for a long moment and then rose to refill my glass. I held up the bottle, silently asking Kate if she would like another glass. She shook her head. Her eyes were so sad.

"Thank you for staying with Audrey. I understand that you didn't leave her until the medics got there. Was she in any pain?"

"I don't believe so, Sir. I think she was just in shock. She cried out when I first laid her down on the bench, but I think it was more shock and confusion than pain. To be honest, Sir, I don't think she was processing anything at that point."

"Did she talk to you?"

Kate shook her head. "No. I'm not even sure she heard me. I tried to get her to stay with me, to focus on me, but she just closed her eyes, and…," She set the glass down and put her head in her hands. "I'm so sorry, Mr. President. I'm so sorry." I sat next to her with my hand on her shoulder and let her cry.

It was several moments before she was able to get herself under control. Once she did, I spoke again, "When you get back to the CIA station you'll find that I had a commendation put in your personnel file."

"A commendation?"

"Yes, the actions that you and Jack took averted a war that could have easily gone nuclear. You risked your life to make sure that didn't happen. The world should be grateful to you. I am grateful to you. Audrey would be grateful to you." I stood to indicate that the meeting was over. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm very tired. I have a long day ahead of me. I doubt if I'll be able to sleep but maybe I can get some rest. Secret Service will escort you out."

I tried to sleep but it never happened. I eventually got up and dressed in a dark suit. I dreaded what was coming next. The long flight back to the US would be interminable. Normally, long flights on Air Force One weren't much different than several hours in my office. Most of my staff was there. We had all necessary communications. We treated it like regular working hours. Today much of my staff and the entire press corps had been placed on other flights. Only a skeleton crew was flying with me. That big bird was going to be very empty. Just me and my thoughts.

And so the Honor Guard moves forward. We approach Air Force One, Audrey and I. I am to walk up the stairs like I always do. She will enter through the cargo bay. Imagine that. My daughter… the acting First Lady of the United States of America, will enter Air Force One through the cargo bay. I won't let them stow her in the cargo hold like the meat for tonight's dinner, though. I remembered earlier this morning that when President Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas, they removed seats from the rear of Air Force One and secured his casket in the passenger compartment. I asked that the same courtesy be afforded my daughter. The British honor guard stops several yards from the plane only to be replaced by US Marines. They look so strong and capable in their dress uniforms. I step back to allow one of the Marines to take my place. I watch as they take the casket onto the plane. Once it is out of my sight, I turn to walk up the stairs to the plane. Another Marine stands at attention at the base of the steps, his hand raised to his forehead in a sharp salute. I remember my days as a young Marine. For a moment I wish I could do it all over again. I wish that I could live my life differently. I wish I knew then what I know now: that life is short and precious, that spending time and enjoying your loved ones if far more satisfying than a quest for power. I am the most powerful man in the world right now but I have nothing. I would give every bit of power back if I could just have my beautiful daughter, full of life and standing beside me for the rest of my days.

I feel my legs begin to falter and for a moment I consider asking the Marine for help up the stairs. Then I think better of it. Audrey never wanted me to appear weak. She'd want me to stand up and show strength. She was concerned when I was elected that because of my age, the oldest president ever elected, my every move would be scrutinized by the media and my opponents. She was afraid that they would seize any opportunity to say I was too old to execute the office of the presidency and make it difficult for me to continue as president. For Audrey I resolved not to show any weakness at this moment. I draw a deep breath and ascend the stairs slowly...for the last time. On my way home, I'll record my resignation speech that will be broadcast to the nation this evening. I had planned on doing this even before I lost my daughter but my speech writers have gone to work revising what they had already written. Instead of saying that I will resign for health reasons, I'll be telling the American people that I simply cannot focus on my job after all that happened in England. And that is true. Admittedly, I will omit the part about having Alzheimer's disease, but that's not really important right now. What is important is that my daughter is dead and her husband, my Chief of Staff, will be tried as a traitor. Both of which are so painful to say out loud that I'm not sure how I will manage to do so. That is why the message will be recorded. For the first time since I was elected, I don't believe that I can face the American people on live television. If that is a show of weakness, I sincerely apologize to Audrey.

When I reach the top of the stairs, I notice that I'm a little short of breath. That's unusual for me. As I said, my mind may be failing but I'm otherwise healthy as an ox. It's one of the things that scares me. I could lose my mind in a matter of months but have my body continue to function for another decade or more. I don't want to live that way. Funny, one of my biggest concerns was for Audrey to have to see me that way. I never liked the idea that she would walk into my room and I wouldn't recognize her. Some problems solve themselves.

As I recover from the walk up the stairs I see the crew of Air Force One standing at attention. Just like my staff, they all look sad. The captain, a career Air Force officer who has flown countless combat missions, approaches me and salutes. He's battle-hardened but at the moment this tough-as-nails airman looks to be on the verge of tears. He clears his throat, swallows hard and speaks in a clear voice befitting his position, "On behalf of the entire crew, Sir, I'd like to offer our condolences. I've flown this plane for three presidents and I can tell you that Mrs. Boudreau was by far the kindest, gentlest woman to grace any of those administrations. Her death is an unspeakable tragedy and she will be missed by every one of us." He paused and swallowed hard again. "We're going to give her a nice, smooth ride home, Sir. The airspace has been cleared. I have clearance to take off as soon as everyone is seated."

I nod my thanks and reach out to shake his hand. I'm still a bit breathless and his tribute chokes me up enough that I can't speak. I simply walk to the back of the plane and sit in the seat nearest my daughter. I strap myself in absently while I stare at the casket. After take-off I move toward my private quarters. Again, all I want is to be alone.

"Mr. President," Ron says, stopping me as I open the door. "I'm sure you want to get some rest right now, but here's a copy of your speech. Let me know if you want to make any changes. We'd like to record it in about two hours. Do you need to talk to the Vice President?"

"The transition team in place. There's nothing more for us to discuss. We can talk when I get back to the White House. I'll look over the speech and I don't want to be disturbed." I take the proffered folder bearing the Presidential seal and close the door behind me.

The last twelve hours have been _ghastly_, to borrow a term from my British counterpart, Alastair. I toss the folder on a table and sit on my favorite sofa. I press my hand against my chest which is aching. I have heartburn that I'm attributing to this morning's coffee. It occurs to me that I have eaten nothing today. I know that I should ask for something to eat, but I'm not hungry. I am, however, very tired. I reach into my breast pocket and pull out the picture that Audrey and I were looking at yesterday, the one of Audrey, her mother and me at the beach. Again I marvel at how beautiful she was as a child and what a beautiful woman she grew up to be. Tears cloud my vision and I can no longer control them. I cry until I am breathless, clutching the picture to my heart, and eventually I fall asleep.

I'm not sure how long I slept but I woke with a start. At first I'm not sure what woke me but I sit up suddenly and as I do, I realize what it was. I have a sharp, deep pain in my chest that radiates into my jaw. I can't get my breath. I reach for a bottle of water on the table next to me but can't get it. As I reach out, I drop the beach picture. At the moment it is my lifeline to Audrey. I must have it back. I lean down to get it and I fall to the floor as my hand closes around the picture. I lie there for several seconds and realize that I can't get up on my own. I'm out of breath and the pain in my chest in overwhelming. I'm dizzy and nauseas. I know I should call out. There is an emergency button that I can press to summon help but I don't bother to do that. I know full well what is happening and I have no desire to stop it. I'm not sure how long I lay on the floor, but eventually I hear Ron knocking on the door. I don't respond because I no longer can. He eventually lets himself in and I can hear him shouting, "Mr. President! Mr. President!" He runs from the room calling for the doctor that travels with my entourage.

Ron drops to his knees next to me and shakes me. "Mr. President! Stay with me. Focus on me." Weren't those the words the Agent Morgan told me she said to Audrey?

I can hear commotion all around me. Everyone is talking at once. I can't make out what they are saying and I'm not sure that I care. I feel someone remove my tie and open my shirt. I can feel a cold stethoscope on my chest. I'm being moved back up to the sofa when suddenly there's a bright light in my eyes but my eyes are closed. I look toward the light and I see Audrey. She's smiling and radiant. What a beauty she is! Her smile lights up my world as it has since the first time she smiled a few weeks after birth. "Dad," she said. "Stay with me. Focus on me." I can feel myself smile back at her. "I'm here, Dad. Stay with me."

I feel the pull. The doctor is trying to keep me alive while Audrey is trying to get me to follow her. It's an easy choice. I can feel myself smile as I follow her. She embraces me and I know that I am finally home.

_Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed despite the fact that this isn't a happy story. For now this chapter will stand alone but I'm considering additional chapters to examine the point of view of some other characters. If you've taken the time to read, I'd really appreciate it if you would review. I'm a review junkie and I need you to feed my habit!_


	2. Mark Boudreau

Ok, chapter 1 seemed to go over pretty well, so I'm going to try my hand at chapter 2. This time I want to examine the state of mind of Mark Boudreau. I thought Mark was a great character (and played extremely well by Tate Donovan). He had the unenviable task of being both lovable and hateable (if that's a word) at the same time. There were moments that I really felt sorry for him and others where I wanted him to die a slow and painful death at Jack's hand. I hope I can do the character justice! I apologize if this gets a little dark.

**Final Thoughts**

Chapter 2: Mark Boudreau

I'm sitting in a holding cell at the CIA London station, cuffed to a chair, when I hear movement behind the door and vaguely wonder what is coming next. Not that it really matters. Frankly, nothing matters. Everything I have ever had, I've now lost. Audrey is dead, the President, who is like a second father to me, can no longer trust me and I'm under arrest for treason. Honestly, if there were a way to reverse the first of those, I really wouldn't care about the second and third. Even though I know that she no longer loved me and that my marriage was, for all intents and purposes, over, I would give everything else up if Audrey were still alive.

Acting station chief Ritter enters the cell to tell me that I'm being transported back to The States. I ask Ritter how the President is. His response is pretty meaningless: "He's boarding Air Force One as we speak." That tells me nothing. Is he climbing aboard the plane under his own power? I watched him collapse and hit his head last night. He's my father-in-law and, you can believe what you want, but the truth is that I care about him. I'm worried about him. But I also understand Ritter's perspective. I'm sure he's thinking that I'm the cause of James Heller's pain and internally I acknowledge that he's right. There's no point in trying to explain that I thought I was doing the president a favor, taking care of a loose end. Yes, you're right, I was blinded by my jealously for Jack Bauer, but I talked myself into believing what I was doing was right.

One of the agents uncuffs my hands so that I can stand and put on my top coat before we head out into the cool London morning. He recuffs them in front of me. It strikes me how ludicrous it is to have me handcuffed. Do they honestly think I'm going to try and escape? Do they consider me a threat to them? These guys are trained in all sorts of hand-to-hand combat and carry an arsenal of weapons. I work out in the White House gym, but I'm no match for them. It would be suicide for me to make a move on one of them. As much as I want to, there's no sense in pointing this out to them. They have their protocols and I suppose this is one of them. Making a big deal about it will only antagonize them. I don't need to do that. They have the power to make my life even more miserable than it is at the moment.

As we walk toward the exit, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a glass paneled door. I look worse than I expected. Sorry if that sounds incredibly egotistical. It's not that I care what I look like right now. My only thought is what Audrey would say if she could see me. I'm not even talking about the handcuffs. It's the up-all-night-in-a-rumpled-suit-with-blood-on-my-face-and-eyes-red-from-crying look that I'm talking about. She was so fastidious about her grooming and mine as well. She would straighten out an already straight tie or use her fingertips to adjust the curls in my hair so they laid nicely. Early in our relationship I thought it was a control issue. Her life was so out of control when she came home from China that little things like fixing hair was all that was in her control. By the time she actually regained control, they were ingrained habits. I almost smile as I think of her frantically trying to brush the dirt off my suit and get the blood off my face. Any amusement I feel disappears as I think of her wiping the tears from below my eyes. I cried most of the interminable night. All I can think about is where I was 24 hours ago and how I got here and that it is all my fault. I swallow hard as if that will keep down the guilt that is rising in my gut.

The trip from the CIA station to the heliport to the airport is a blur. I'm so tired that I think I may have dozed off. Now that I'm at the airport it's beginning to sink in. There's a military transport there to take me back to the States. Military Police and some of the Secret Service detail are waiting on the tarmac. For once I'm happy that the Secret Service agents are wearing dark glasses. That way I can't see their eyes. I'm sure they are staring daggers into me. The agents all adored Audrey. I generally acted like they didn't exist but she gushed all over them. She knew all of their names and birthdays and how many kids they had. She made sure there were gifts for every occasion. I want to remind them that two of their brother agents, a Chinese diplomat's daughter and my wife are dead because they didn't plan well enough and secure the area before allowing my Audrey to set up a covert diplomatic meeting. As quickly as that thought pops into my head, I remember that none of this would have happened and the override device would not have been in Cheng's hands at that moment if I hadn't given the Russians Jack's location and allowed them to ambush him. The moments wasted in that ambush resulted in every bad thing that followed. That was my fault and no matter how hard I want to I can't blame that on the Secret Service.

The car door opens and a CIA agent helps me out and we stand next to the car while the Military Police approach. From there I'm guided to the plane and led up the stairs. The trip back to the US is going to be very different from the trip to the UK just a few days ago and the irony isn't lost on me. I remember jogging up the steps to Air Force One behind Audrey and her father. She always linked her arm in his and walked up the stairs with him. She did it for two reasons. The first was that it secured her position as First Lady with the American people. We haven't had a single or widowed president in over a century. The Country is used to the First Lady being the president's wife and her father wanted her to be accepted as First Lady. Secondly, she wanted to provide him with a bit of stability without it looking like he had to be helped onto the plane. His age concerned her. She knew all too well how the press had shown video of President Ford stumbling and looking inept back in the late 1970's. The funny part about it is that Jim Heller is in great physical shape. That's what makes his illness so much more devastating.

Once in the plane, which I don't need to add is a bare-bones military craft nothing like the plush confines of Air Force One, I'm uncuffed and given the opportunity to take off my top coat and toss it onto the seat next to me before I sit down and am shackled to the seat.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Boudreau. It's standard operating procedure," the Military Police officer says, mildly. "This should be a little more comfortable than the handcuffs."

I know I should just thank him and keep my mouth shut, but I can't. I finally have to say something. "Really?" I say as quietly and respectfully as I can. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not known to be violent. You've checked for weapons. Please just let me stretch my legs out."

One of my Secret Service agents, Matt Mikulski, whose back was toward me spun around quickly, ripped his glasses off and stared at me as if trying to bore a hole in my already battered soul. "If Mrs. Boudreau and her Secret Service detail were able to walk around Air Force One right now, I might be a little more generous, but as it stands, you will remain shackled for the entire flight. Piss me off a little more and I'll have the lieutenant here restrain your hands, as well!"

If I'm not mistaken that was more words than Agent Mikulski had spoken to me since I became the Chief of Staff. Come to think about it, I never knocked myself out to talk to him either…but Audrey had. I said nothing and dropped my eyes to the floor. _Point made, Agent Mikulski._

The pilot stepped on board and was saluted by his junior officers. "Secure the cabin for takeoff. I just got word that Air Force One has cleared the airspace. We're free to take off."

Less than ten minutes later we're wheels up. It's going to be a long flight on a slow transport plane. I sit back and try to think of anything other than the fact that Audrey is returning home in a box. I look around and assess my situation. The plane is big and mostly empty. The military policemen and Secret Service agents are scattered throughout the plane. No one is within three rows of me. They are silent, all of them with e-readers or tablets. I close my eyes and try to suppress the thoughts. Unfortunately, I've got nothing to do and a lot of time to think. As I stare at the seat in front of me, I remember the first time I met Audrey. It was shortly after Jack Bauer staged his death at CTU. Of course at the time, we didn't know it was a ruse, everyone thought he was dead. I was hired to replace him. It was, without a doubt, the most important career move in my life.

I met Audrey Raines the first day. She was pleasant, but quiet and withdrawn. At the time, everyone believed that she was mourning the loss of her husband, Paul Raines, in the terrorist attack. They were estranged, but that didn't mean she didn't still care for him. It seemed natural that she was grieving for him. And in truth, she probably was grieving for him to some extent, but in reality it was Jack who she was really grieving. No one in her father's office had any idea that she and Jack were involved. _Involved_, such a nice word. It's the way I prefer to think of their relationship. I have trouble being honest with myself and saying that Jack and Audrey were lovers. Even at this moment, especially at this moment, it bothers me that Jack knew Audrey the same way that I did. I often wondered if she compared us, Jack and me. It's natural, I know. We all compare our lovers. I've certainly compared her to other women and, somehow, it didn't bother me that Audrey might compare me with Paul Raines or Walt Cummings. But being compared with Jack Bauer was something different. How can you ever be looked upon favorably when the person you're being compared to is nothing short of a superhero?

As time went on and I worked more and more closely with Audrey, I found myself completely smitten with her. While we're on the subject of words, _smitten_ is rarely used, but so well describes how I felt about her. I would stare at her when she wasn't looking and try to memorize her features. I literally trembled if our hands accidentally touched while we were shuffling papers or our knees bumped against one another under the table. If she smiled at me, I could barely form a coherent thought let alone speak it aloud. I was a high school sophomore in the presence of the homecoming queen. I adored her and she was out of my reach.

It was about a year before I got hold of myself enough to actually ask her out. We were working overtime on a Saturday and finished up about 6 o'clock. It was April in Washington DC, probably the most pleasant month of the year. The cherry blossoms were in bloom. I suggested that we walk around the Tidal Basin to see them and then grab some dinner. I rationalized that this was hardly a date and, even if it was, Audrey's husband had been dead for a year, so it was okay to ask. She agreed and I thought I died and went to heaven. By the end of dinner, when Audrey picked up the check and put it on her expense account. I knew that it wasn't a date and I wasn't getting a goodnight kiss. At least I knew where I stood. I decided at that moment that there were other fish in the sea and I wasn't sitting on the river bank waiting for Audrey Raines to take the bait.

I tried not to take it personally. While Audrey didn't seem to have any interest in me, she wasn't really interested in other men either. There was an office rumor that she was seeing someone on President Logan's staff for a while but it was short lived. Audrey eventually admitted that she had a brief affair with Walt Cummings which she broke off. She was always vague on why she ended the relationship but I'm not stupid. I could read between the lines. She was still in love with Jack Bauer.

I took stock of my situation. This is going to sound egotistical again and it may be, but it's also true. I was an attractive, single man with a great job and future, a good income and no baggage (i.e. no ex-wife and kids). Most single women in Washington would kill to find someone like that. So I started dating just about anything in a skirt. After several months of playing the field, I had a steady girlfriend. Not as smart or pretty or well-connected as Audrey but a damn close second and she came with the added benefit that she loved me. Things were falling nicely into place for me.

It was about that time that we found out that Jack Bauer was still alive and that his death had been staged. That was about the craziest day you can imagine. In just about 24 hours Jack returned from the dead, thwarted a serious terrorist attack, brought down a president and was kidnapped by the Chinese.

Jack's kidnapping turned Audrey into a woman on a mission. The few hours that she spent with Jack during that terrorist attack solidified her love for him. She ended that day with wedding plans in the back of her head only to have them dashed by the Chinese. She became fully focused on how to get Jack home from China. She worked every diplomatic avenue that she could think of and every back channel that she could find. It became an obsession for her. For a while her father was right there beside her, but over time his interest waned. I think he still cared but he realized that it was creating a distraction from his post as Secretary of Defense and producing unwanted political baggage and even that far back he had aspirations for higher office.

When Audrey finally got someone in the Chinese government to listen to her, she was ecstatic. Her father cautioned her not to get her hopes up and encouraged her to continue to work through the embassy and stay on US soil. Audrey wouldn't hear of it. She was literally on the next plane to Beijing. I was with Jim Heller when the Chinese ambassador came to his DoD office a few days later to inform him that they believed that Audrey had been killed in a car accident and they would need DNA to identify her remains. He gave them her hairbrush and a few days later her death was confirmed. He was heartbroken and so was I. I honestly thought that I was over Audrey until I was told she was dead. I suddenly understood how Audrey felt when she thought Jack was dead and why she wasn't interested in anyone else. I felt the same way. I ended up breaking up with the woman I was dating. I simply couldn't continue the charade of acting like I loved her when I was clearly still in love with Audrey.

For the next six months I worked alongside Jim Heller at a breakneck pace. The man was 25 years older than me and he was putting in hours that were killing me. I knew it was all to maintain a state of exhaustion so that he didn't have a moment to think about his loss. It was at that same time that we developed a close relationship. I began to perceive him as a father and I'm pretty sure he looked at me as a son. His own son had failed him. I was happy to fulfill the role of the good son.

Toward the end of that six months, Wayne Palmer was elected president and with the inauguration Jim Heller ended his tenure as Secretary of Defense. He was quickly hired by a private defense contractor in an advisory role and he took me with him. I had hitched my star to his and I was rising quickly. It was right after Palmer took office that a series of terrorist attacks began. A plan was eventually hatched to negotiate Jack Bauer's release from the Chinese in order to give him up to a terrorist who has promised to cooperate if he could have Jack turned over to him. As ludicrous as that sounds, the President was willing to try anything to get the attacks to stop. Jim Heller lobbied hard as a private citizen to make it happen. He blamed Jack for Audrey's death and he wanted him to pay. Torture in a Chinese prison wasn't enough for a grieving father. He wanted to ensure that Jack was dead and this was a surefire way to do it.

In typical Jack fashion, he not only turned the tables on the terrorist and survived the day, he ended up establishing that Audrey was alive and he rescued her. I was elated until I saw the Audrey that came home from China. She was completely broken. The confident, self-assured Audrey that I knew was gone only to be replaced by a catatonic child who rarely spoke and shuddered in fear every time someone approached her. If I loved her before she went to China, I loved her twice as much now. At least I thought I did. Looking back I think I loved her the way one loves a stray puppy. Suddenly Audrey needed me and wasn't in the state of mind to reject me. I was quiet and gentle when I was around her and spoke in tone usually reserved for four year olds. That was something her father had trouble doing. He simply could not stomach treating his daughter like a child. I began to spend inordinate amounts of time with Audrey often sleeping in the guest room at the Heller's beach house until I finally moved in with them. I would walk her on the beach and take her to therapy. We ate meals together and I slept in the next room so I could get to her quickly when she had a nightmare. I spent almost 3 years cultivating a relationship with Audrey that was largely based on her needing care. Slowly the relationship changed. When we walked on the beach and I held her hand, it was no longer to make her feel secure. Instead of holding hands with a body width between us, our fingers would entwine and Audrey would lean in close to me. Finally one night as we sat on the beach watching the sunset we kissed. It happened very innocently. Audrey looked up at me laughing at what I was saying and our eyes locked for a long moment. I waited it out. She eventually tilted her head, closed her eyes and craned her neck up toward me. I kissed her gently, barely allowing my lips to touch hers. Without moving I did it a second time. Audrey put her arms around me and the kiss deepened. I just touched her lips with my tongue and she immediately responded by opening her mouth. Less than a month later we were engaged and just three months after that we were married.

In the years since Audrey had returned from China, she had only mentioned Jack Bauer's name a handful of times. Early on, her father deflected her questions while showing little emotion. As time went on and Audrey's questions became more insistent, Jim let her know that it was a subject not to be discussed. Emotionally she was pretty tenuous at the time and Jim, without really meaning to do so, scared her off. She couldn't deal with her father being angry with her, so she stopped asking questions. Jim talked to some contacts and no one seemed to know where Jack was which made me feel better.

Shortly after Audrey and I were married, we moved back to Washington with her father. Jim had taken the position as the head of a conservative think tank and wanted me to be his second in command. We both knew that he was positioning himself for a White House run. Audrey was ready to leave Southern California and wanted to work a couple of days a week. It was around the same time that Jack was called before a Senate subcommittee to answer questions regarding his actions while at CTU. I thought I was going to lose my mind! Why couldn't I get away from him? Why was he haunting me? Audrey and I were trying to make a life for ourselves and I thought we were doing a pretty good job of it. We had a decent marriage. I know that "decent" isn't the term that most people would want to use when describing their marriage but I was convinced that was the best I could hope for. We enjoyed being married and while it wasn't the most passionate relationship I could have dreamed of, we had a good physical relationship. Anything that was lacking in our marriage, both emotionally and physically, I blamed on what Audrey had gone through in China. I did that to appease myself. I knew the truth. I may have loved Audrey more than anything in the world, but if she were really honest with me, she would have to admit that she cared for me a great deal, but didn't really love me. Or at least she didn't love me like she loved Jack. I knew then that the specter of Jack Bauer would be part of my marriage until one of us died. Little did I realize that it was exactly that specter that would result in my bad decision making and Audrey's death.

So to go back to my story, Jack was about to be subjected to Senate hearings. It wasn't exactly making headlines. It was in the Senate's best interest to keep this a bit quiet. Much of it dealt with things like covert and black ops and the general feeling in Washington was that the less the American people knew about those things, the better. Audrey was still avoiding the news to a large extent, so it seemed unlikely to me that she would find out about the hearings. I decided that I was just better off not telling her about it and Jim agreed with me. What a mistake! A friend called and told her that Jack was on C-Span. After watching about 15 minutes of the questioning, she begged her father to find a way to help Jack. I don't ever remember this happening before, but Jim lost his temper with her. He told her that he hated Jack for what he did to her and that he not only would not help him, but he hoped that he rotted in jail. That was the second mistake. The timid Audrey who returned from China almost totally broken suddenly found her voice and her backbone that day. She turned on her father and me like a tiger. She shouted back, "When are you two going to realize that none of what happened to me in China was Jack's fault? I went to China on my own. My kidnapping was a result of my own bad decision and if I had it to do again, I would. Jack is a national hero and nobody knows it. He's being grilled by Senators like an ax murderer instead of being thanked for saving thousands of lives in his career. Maybe instead of trying to keep me from going to China you should have worked a little harder to have Jack freed. I want you to know that if these hearing lead to charges, I plan to get the best lawyers in Washington to take his case. I'll testify to how many lives he saved. That includes our lives, Dad. Do you remember that? You were going to be executed on camera and I doubt the terrorists would have bothered to keep me alive more that the hour or so that it took each of them rape me."

I suspect that that wouldn't have been the end of the argument except for the fact that Jack's hearing recessed and shortly thereafter we began hearing reports of a terrorist attack. And right on cue, Jack was in the middle of the fray nearly dying from a biological weapon that he kept from being unleashed on an entire city. A man in my shoes doesn't have the right to sound overly sarcastic, but it's like the guy is a cat; he's got at least nine lives. Audrey would have thought of it a little differently. She would have said that Jack was a superhero.

Obviously Jack survived that brush with death although from what Jim could learn it was touch and go for a long time. Needless to say, Jim and I kept close track of his movements. Even though neither of us was working in a government position, we both had a lot of contacts from our DoD days. From what I could gather, Jack was recovering under the watchful eye of a doctor in New York City. He had been moved there a few months after the stem cell transplant that saved his life. I had even gotten confirmation that he was released from care and was scheduled to go with his daughter and her family to Los Angeles. What a relief! Three thousand miles between Jack and Audrey. Finally I could relax. Oh, could I have been more wrong? It's as if terrorist attacks follow him! The next thing I know, just as I'm getting cozy with the idea that my number one nemesis and competitor for my wife's affections is moving 3000 miles away, there's a terrorist attack in New York.

The difference is that this time instead of being a hero, Jack was portrayed as a crazed killer. At some point during the attack, he lost it and left a mountain of death in his wake. And then he just disappeared. The phrase "off the grid" didn't even scratch the surface. Jack Bauer ceased to exist. The FBI, CIA, Interpol, MI-6, Mossad and just about every other law enforcement agency on the planet spent the next four years looking for him without any success. Every once in a while there would be an event that had Jack's "fingerprints" all over it, but no one could catch him. I say fingerprints in a figurative manner, not a literal one. There were certainly no fingerprints at the scene. There was _nothing_ at the scene, not so much as a cell with Jack's DNA in it. Looking back on it, I'm not sure that many of those agencies were trying very hard to find Jack. Even I have to admit that the people Jack killed deserved it. I think almost everyone felt that way, including sworn federal agents. The problem was that in a country founded on the principles of law and order, innocent until proven guilty and judgment by a jury of your peers, Jack didn't get the privilege of killing everyone who pissed him off no matter how heinous that person was.

Not that this will come as a surprise to anyone, but the only person who defended Jack through all of this was Audrey. She maintained that Jack wouldn't kill anyone that he didn't have a good reason to kill. She never doubted him, not for a minute. It made me crazy. That may have been the beginning of the decline of our marriage. For some reason, it also seemed to be some kind of catalyst for Audrey. It was like she came back to life. She went back to a special advisory role for her father. This time her area of focus was human rights. She also started pushing him to run for president. During the campaign she worked long, hard hours. It was amazing to watch her. It also scared me a little. For the first time since Audrey returned from China, she was thinking and doing for herself. She became her own person again. The other interesting thing that happened while we were campaigning was that it sparked our relationship. We suddenly had a common goal and it was exciting; it turned us both on. That campaign was by far the best 16 months of our marriage. After the election we took a two week vacation, a safari in Africa, before starting to work on the transition to the White House. During that two weeks I finally thought we had it together. I thought maybe, just maybe I'd finally vanquished Jack Bauer and extracted the remnants of him from my wife's soul. And just to make sure, once we were in the White House, I made sure that Jack Bauer was labeled a terrorist by the State Department to keep him from making any attempt at coming back to the country.

The next couple of years in the White House were pretty good. Not as good as it was at first, but we managed to keep our relationship stable and loving. It wasn't until Audrey's father was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease that things got tenuous again. We disagreed with how to handle the situation and this time it wasn't Jack Bauer that was the 800 pound gorilla in the middle of our relationship. That role now belonged to James Heller. Audrey worried about him incessantly. I know she just wanted to protect him, but I was his Chief of Staff and I hated how much influence she had over him. In my own way, I was trying to protect him, too. I just couldn't seem to convince Audrey of that.

By the time we flew to the UK earlier this week, I thought we might have a chance to work things out. Extending the US lease on Diego Garcia to maintain our Naval Base would be the crowning achievement for the Heller Presidency. It was to be his legacy. We knew his illness would prevent him from having a second term. It was already late into his first term and our hope was to extend the lease at Diego, go back to the US a hero, announce that he was not running for reelection and then ride out the next few months of his term. With luck, no one would ever have to know about the Alzheimer's disease. He would move to his horse farm in Virginia and live out his life quietly. Audrey and I had already discussed my running for the Governor's Mansion in Virginia. I was hoping that the excitement of another campaign would reinvigorate our marriage.

Just a little over 24 hours ago the bottom dropped out of that dream when US drones started dropping their payloads from the sky and Jack Bauer surfaced in London. I'm really not sure what I was thinking when I forged the President's signature on the rendition order. That's a lie. I do know what I was thinking. I knew the President would never sign it. He would be willing to arrest Bauer and take him back to the US for trial, but he'd never agree to hand him over to the Russians. James Heller's sense of fair play would never allow that. And I couldn't let Jack come back to the US. Whether he ended up in a federal prison or if he was somehow found not guilty and avoided prison time, I knew that Audrey would be consumed with the case. She would defend him to the death; she would work on appeals if necessary. I knew full well that if Jack Bauer returned to the US, my marriage was over.

So, I did what I thought I had to. I signed the rendition order assuming that I could manage to turn Jack over to the Russians without my wife or my father-in-law finding out what I did. If push came to shove, I could always say that the President simply didn't remember signing the order. That was a card I didn't want to play, but I would if I had to.

And so, the worst 24 hours of my life has ensued. It would have been bad even if I hadn't signed that rendition order, but it would have been nothing like this. I'd be going back to the US on Air Force One sitting next to my wife. The state of my marriage would be another issue but Audrey would be alive and I wouldn't be shackled to my seat. Believe me, I know what the state of my marriage would be. We would do what was needed to keep up appearances until her father resigned and left the White House, but our marriage was over. She as much as said that when she said that I was "a commitment" that she "intended to honor." I didn't have to hear any more than that. The President had given Jack a pardon which meant that he had every right to come back to the US and marry my wife just as soon as she could secure a divorce. I could easily see Jack at the Heller's horse farm in Virginia. He was rugged and outdoorsy. Frankly, I hated the place but I'd never told Audrey that. She loved riding and had tried to get me to learn. I never did. I never even tried. My eyes fill with tears when I realize that I missed an opportunity to connect with Audrey doing something she wanted to do. I know how rarely I compromised with her. Maybe I'm beginning to understand how much I'm responsible for our difficulties.

I pull a handkerchief from my pocket to wipe my eyes as I notice one of the Secret Service agents, Sam Young, leaning over to talk to one of his colleagues. Sam shows the other agent his tablet and they talk quietly for a moment. A third agent gets involved in the discussion and I can tell they disagree on something. Sam, the senior member of the group, stands up and shakes his head at the other agents. "This is my call," he says, "and I think he should know."

The agent walks toward me and sits down in the seat across the aisle. "Mr. Boudreau, I just got some news that I think you should know."

He's Secret Service, his face rarely shows anything; that's one of their trademarks but right now Sam looks upset. "What is it, Sam?" I ask. "What happened?"

Sam looked down at his tablet as if to verify the news. "President Heller is dead."

"What? When? How did it happen?" I ask incredulously.

"He was found dead in his private quarters on Air Force One. There's no reason to believe that it was anything other than natural causes. His physician thinks it was a heart attack or irregular heart rhythm brought on by the stress of Mrs. Boudreau's death."

"That can't be right. He never had any heart problems, Sam. Check that again."

Sam shakes his head. "It's correct. I've got it from two sources. Here's the bulletin from the Secret Service Chaplain." He hands me his tablet.

I read the statement from the Rev. Stephen Kane who was a good friend of Jim Heller's: _It is with great sadness that I inform you of the death of The President of the United States, James Heller. His sudden death as it falls immediately on the heels of the murder of his daughter, Audrey, and two of our agents will doubtless be another difficult blow. We will all remember President Heller as a kind and fair man. One who didn't jump to conclusions but listened to the facts and made thoughtful and measured decisions. He treated each and every member of the Secret Service family as a member of his own family. He suffered his personal losses, the deaths of his wife, his son and finally his beloved, Audrey, with quiet dignity and an unflagging faith in his God, believing fully that he would live again with each of them in the Kingdom of Heaven. I am proud of call him my friend and I am sure that each and every one of you is proud to have served him. _

I numbly hand the tablet back to Sam. "Thank you," I whisper.

"Just so you know, the Vice President was just sworn in. He'll address the American people with the news in about 15 minutes." Sam returned. "I'm sorry, Mr. Boudreau."

I swallow hard and stare straight ahead. This is an unbearable blow. I feel the bile rise in my throat and choke it back down. Once I can speak without vomiting, I ask Agent Young if he could leave me alone for a while. He nods mildly and begins to stand up. "For what it's worth, Mr. Boudreau, I know how much you loved your wife and the President. I know you didn't mean for any of this to happen."

I wait for him to get several rows away before I allow myself to break down. I reach for the topcoat in the seat next to me and bury my face in it and sob. There are several rows between me and any of the agents. With my distance from them, the noise of the transport and the coat acting to muffle sound, I doubt that they can hear my anguish. Knowing that I am responsible for Audrey's death is horrible enough but now adding her father's death to it is more than I can take. I pull the coat tighter to my face as if I can disappear into it. I remember putting it on to leave the Presidential residence with Jack Bauer. I thought I was going to my death and I wish I had. I can almost see myself standing outside of Stolnavich's residence, talking to him on the phone, pleading for asylum. Hell of an acting job if I do say so myself. Academy Award caliber. You know what? For a moment, for a very, very long moment, I wasn't acting. I was serious about it. It would have been very easy. I would have been so valuable in Russia. All of my troubles would have been over. No arrest for treason. No marriage to worry about. Audrey could divorce me and marry Jack. It would solve all of my problems. It wasn't until I walked to the door and heard Jack's voice in my ear telling me to turn toward the security system panel. I knew then that I couldn't do it. I couldn't betray the President that way. That sounds hypocritical coming from a guy who forged the President's name on an official document but it's true. Somehow I could justify signing the rendition order, but I couldn't deliver all of the information that I had to the Russians. That would accomplish nothing other than to hurt my country and a President that I professed to care about. It occurs to me now that this may have been the first selfless act of my entire life. I've never done anything that didn't benefit me or my career in some way. Every job I've ever held, every friendship I've ever made, even my marriage, were all calculated. Not defecting to Russia was purely selfless. I would go to prison rather than live in luxury in Russia. I suddenly think of Jack and how he has lived his life, how he had given with no regard to his own personal losses. Against that, my own life seems worthless.

I hug the coat tighter to my chest like it is some kind of life preserver. As I do, my thumb brushes over something sharp. Instinctively my hand retracts and I watch as a dot of red blooms on my skin. I look for the source of the cutting edge and find a large shard of glass edged in metal in the breast pocket of my topcoat. It must have gotten lodged there when Stolnavich and I went through the glass door at his residence. I take it out and examine it. I can almost feel myself crashing through the glass. The frantic scene is flashing through my mind erratically like a DVD with a scratch in it. Stolnavich is on the floor. Jack is trying to save him. We have to find Cheng. I get the text showing me Audrey through the crosshairs of a sniper's rifle. It's a nightmare. It has to be. It can't be real but it is. I hear myself telling Jack that Audrey loves him. I don't want to do it, but I have to. I have to make him save her. I have to appeal to his heart and I know I have when he tells me to shut up. I know then that he loves her, too. I know then that he'll make every effort to save her.

Somehow it all goes so terribly wrong. I'm transported from Knightsbridge to the CIA station. I don't normally pray, but I prayed to any God that would listen with everything I had. Maybe I should have made friends with God earlier in my life, because he clearly doesn't know me and wasn't compelled to listen. I can tell by the subdued expressions on the faces of the Secret Service and CIA agents that something is wrong but at the same time, I'm pretty sure that Jack got to Cheng in time. I'm being escorted into the situation room with the President with I think I hear Ron Clark say that Audrey died ten minutes earlier of a gunshot wound. I think I hear it but I'm sure it can't be true. That's when I see the President of the United Stated, my friend, my father-in-law, collapse. He looks up at me and shakes his head almost imperceptibly and I know that it's true. I know that Audrey's gone.

This crazed movie that is running in my head finally stops. Everything around me is black and I realize that I have my face buried so deeply in my coat that no light is entering. My hand has closed tightly around the glass from Stolnavich's door and has a long thin cut in it. I wipe the blood absently on my pants. I look for a long time at the glass, mesmerized by the way it is catching the light. I close my eyes for a second and make a decision. I breathe slowly to see if I change my mind but after several minutes of thinking about it, I know that it is the right decision.

I tuck the glass into my pants pocket and clear my throat. "Agent Young," I say just loud enough for him to hear me.

Young turns and comes back to my seat. "Did you need something?"

"Is there any chance I could go to the restroom? I'd like a few minutes to clean up." I speak in a voice as placid as if I had just asked for a cup of tea in a fine restaurant.

"Sure. Let me get the keys," he answers. He retrieves the key from one of the military police and opens the lock on the shackles. "There you go. Bathroom's in the back of the plane."

I nod my thanks and walk slowly, taking measured steps toward the rear of the plane. I enter the tiny restroom. Before I close the door, I look down the aisle at Agent Young. Good…he didn't follow me. I lock the door and take off my jacket and shirt. I sit down on the floor and press my back against the door to block it and make it harder to open. I pull the glass from my pocket and I'm surprised at how calm I am. I grab my shirt and stuff part of a sleeve into my mouth and bite down. I need to make sure that I don't scream or make any noise that will alert the agents. Without hesitation, I plunge the sharp edge of the glass into my wrist as hard as I can. It doesn't even hurt as the blood comes slowly to the surface. There's not enough blood; I haven't dug deep enough. I bite the shirt and force the glass down harder. This time I feel it. It hurts and I'm glad that it does. Now the blood is flowing faster but still not fast enough. I want to see a river of my blood. I want to float away on it. I grip the glass that is now cutting my hand and push it still deeper. I drag it along my arm and watch as blood literally spurts from my wrist. I know that I've hit an artery. All I can see is red. I sit, fascinated, watching it for a few seconds. I feel a little weak and allow my head to rest against the wall. My vision is fading a bit. That's ok. I feel warm and sleepy. I think I've slumped over but I'm not really sure. There's some shouting outside and banging on the door. I hear them calling my name and imploring me to open the door. My breathing becomes shallow and I can feel that I'm not getting enough oxygen, but I don't panic. I relax and allow my breathing to slow. I can feel the door being forced open against my back and I'm being dragged out of the bathroom. I know they are trying to resuscitate me but it is too late. I take one final breath knowing that while my heart stopped beating today, my life ended 24 hours ago.

_Thanks for reading! I'm hoping that you enjoyed, but whether you liked it or didn't like it, I'd like to hear what you thought. _


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